Story of Our Love
by Bashte
Summary: An un-named, unknown wizard tells the story of his love for his childhood friend. Warning: Angsty romance, mpreg, and DracoxmaleOC. Rated M just to be safe.


**Story Of Our Love**

_**. . . Heartbeat slowing . . .**_

_**. . . breathing heavy . . .**_

_**. . . skin freezing . . . **_

_**. . . sight darkening . . . **_

_**. . . eyes closing . . . **_

_**. . . lips paling . . . **_

_**. . . soul leaving . . . **_

_**. . . How I wish . . . **_

_**. . . I had told you before . . . **_

_**. . . that I love you . . . **_

_**. . . so much . . .**_

I remember the first time I met you. Although we were the same age, I was shorter than you. I still remember how you always tease me for being short, how I miss those days. I would just stick my tongue out at you and say that I'd get taller when I get older. You'd always laugh and tease me, urging me to chase you around and around for hours. Our parents met at a conference, apparently we were both brought along to see what it was like. Very boring, if you ask me.

While I hide behind my mother's skirt—I admit, I was shy—you were standing right beside your father like the little man you were. Your blond hair was slicked back as if you'd used Muggle hair gel, no doubt your parents decided that. You had the brightest gray eyes I've ever seen, almost so pale, I nearly thought you had silver for eyes. When you saw me, I quickly hid behind my mother, which made you snicker loud enough for me to hear.

I peeked out only to find that you had made your way a little closer to me with your hand outstretched. "You want to go play?" was all you said. All of my shyness blew out the window with the wind as I saw your happy smile. Without much hesitation, I took your hand and you led me to many places in the building where the conference was held. I was shocked to see how much you know of the place. Later on in life, I found out it was because your father was one of the superiors.

It was from that moment onwards that you and I continued our little friendship. Most of the time I came to your manor. It was the largest house I've seen in the world. Perhaps your ancestors used were monarchs? I remember you taking my hand and leading me through the house and showing me your room. I remember you pulling me through the forest to search for caterwoks, small furry caterpillar-like creatures as long as a child's palm.

We would practice the spells our parents taught us and have little mini-duels without our parents knowing. Of course, they found out in the end and would scold us for our recklessness. Usually during these duels, you would always win. It was no secret that you were the better duelist and better in potions as well. We weren't taught much spells or potions, but they were the basics that would allow us to ace in the upcoming school years.

While you may be better at dueling and potions, there was one thing you were never good at that I was: spell creation. While creating spells isn't a completely cool thing as it took up a lot of creativity and power. I was only able to create one certain spell when we were little and that was the _Floris _spell, a spell that made flowers grow at any certain place I want. I always thought that creating spells was fun and only a hobby, I never knew that I'd ever create something destructive enough . . . to kill someone . . .

Yes, our childhood was beautiful and memorable. We were little children just following our parents' directions, doing their every desire and bidding without a care in the world. We were but children who only wanted to please our parents' wishes. We never thought of what the future would be like, only the thought of play and studies. It never occurred to us that one day we'd have to think for ourselves.

I remember seeing your face at your tenth birthday. You only had one more year till you could go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I knew you were overly happy-go-lucky although you did hide it as best as you could underneath that handsome smirk of yours. It's always been part of your family to hide your real emotions, though at that moment I had no idea why. But you took from your dad and I loved that about you. Call me crazy, but yes, I loved it when I saw your scheming smirk or your cold and brutal stare. Somehow it showed me just how unafraid you were of the world in front of us.

Sadly, that was the last night I saw you. My heart tore to pieces when I found out what was going on in the real world, the world that I had neglected during my younger years. Although even if I did pay attention to it, I wouldn't have been able to change the fate I would have to carry alone. If I knew what was going to happen to me in the very end, perhaps I would've done something else, but . . . I'm no fortune teller and even if I was, was my power strong enough to stop the fateful events?

I remember the night my house was ambushed by men wearing black cloaks and silver masks. I remember being dragged out of bed by my frantic parents and being caught by those scary-looking intruders. I remember feeling the pain of the Cruciatus curse surge through my body, making me writhe in torture. I never forgot that experience and there was more to come. There was a leader among those black cloaked men. I thought it was a man, but when I heard the voice, I knew it was a woman.

I remember hearing her demand something from my parents, I couldn't hear what it was, but my father disagreed with it and immediately, the excruciation came back full throttle. I remember seeing my mother's scared face as she pulled on my father's sleeve. Her tears fell continuously to the floor like a sad rainy day. She kept trying to plead with my father to do what the cloaked woman wanted, but my father was against it. I didn't understand why my father didn't want to save me.

My own eyes welled up in tears again from all the pain I had to endure. I kept looking for any signs of change in my father's face, but there was none. The pain continued until the leader got tired of just hearing negative responses. I saw her take out her wand through all the blurriness in my eyes, she had long pale, slim fingers with an elaborate ring of red stone.

Mother immediately knew what was going to happen, since she threw herself on top of me, I can still remember her hot tears falling on my hands, face, and neck. I was slowly starting to understand what was happening. My father was yelling at her, trying to stop her from saying anything. But my mother had my safety set on her heart, I knew it. Now, I'm wondering if I was the reason everything happened so wrong.

She said something about forbidden books in the archives of the Ministry where she and dad worked. I guess this was what the cloaked woman wanted. I could hear her cackling devilishly. My father had an expression between anger and disappointment at my mother, but she didn't care.

The cloaked woman pulled off her hood and mask, revealing a very beautiful, yet stone-cold face. She had wild, unruly blood red hair that was tied back loosely into a half tail. Some of the red fringes fell over and curled around her face like serpents. Her slime-green eyes flared with an inhuman flame like the way Medusa might've looked like. I heard some men call her Hadessa, daughter of hell . . . a name that I would never forget.

With an 'Avada Kedavra' my father fell to the floor bereft of life. His dark green eyes stared at me lifeless, his lips slightly open from his last breath. I remember hearing my mother's scream as she left my side and fell at my father's side, crying her eyes out. I would forever remember that face in my nightmares.

I felt that it was all my fault. Why . . . Why did they want those forbidden spell books? I would find out months later, but it would've been too late by then.

My mother and I were cruelly torn away from my father and taken to a manor that reeked of death. I thought we would be locked up together, but no, the pale woman had other ideas. Mother was locked away in the underground dungeons, she and I weren't allowed to see each other. I was also locked in a different place, oddly, it was a room in one of the mansion. It had windows, but they were cursed so that I wouldn't be able to open them or get out.

The cloaked men came to me every day, teaching me all of these dark spells. I didn't want to, but they threatened that if I didn't do what they wanted, then Mother would certainly die. I had already witnessed my Father's death, I didn't want to see Mother go that same way. So reluctantly, I learned those spells. I didn't know why they were teaching me these spells, but soon I knew why.

The room I was in was warded so that no magic could be performed in there. Instead, I had to learn out in the yard where black, bare and dead trees stood as though they were ghosts of the forest that used to be there. I was taught mainly the Cruciatus curse, the Imperius curse, and the Killing curse. I had to experiment them on innocent, little white rabbits. You know how I love rabbits right? It broke my heart to see one die because of what I was learning. But I couldn't stop now, not with my Mother's life on the line.

They said that if I perfected all the spells they taught me, then before the month ended, I'd be able to meet Mother. I couldn't say I was excited as I'd have to learn all of these harmful spells, but the aspect of getting to see Mother was overwhelming. I wanted to see her so bad it hurt. There was no kind people among all these cloaked ones and Mother was probably my chance of receiving the love I had been neglected.

It was the night before Halloween. You remember how it was our favorite holiday? I remember being told that night was the night where everything was going to change. I was brought before their leader. She made a deal with me, saying that if I killed a certain amount of people, then Mother and I would go free. It was foolish to trust her lying lips, but I did. I was going to go with the cloaked ones that night to start the first 'raid' of my life.

But before that, I was to meet Mother. I remember going down the rocky stairs and seeing her through those iron bars. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were bloodshot. I don't think she's slept at all. When she saw me, her golden hazel eyes grabbed at my face and she cried again. I was happy that the cloaked ones, who were called Death Eaters, were actually leaving us alone. I guess they didn't want to hear some woman cry as it would get annoying to them.

I told her the deal I made with the woman, Mother was panicking again, telling me that the woman wasn't to be trusted. I knew what Mother meant, but I had no choice whatsoever. Just to ensure my safety, Mother pulled something out of the pocket of her jacket.

It was a small bag and inside it was a red perfume bottle. She dumped the last contents into the palm of her hand then said a short transfiguration spell. Then she told me about the Elistorel spell, she said that it wasn't just any simple spell. It was a spell that required a lot of things. The most important 'ingredient' for the spell, was a 'container' to hold the soul of the person being casted. Using the contents of her ruby red perfume bottle, she transfigured it into a small oval-shaped ruby as small as the nail on my littlest finger.

She held it out towards me and told me to put my hand on it. When I did, we closed our eyes as she said the incantation. I could still remember the droning of her voice in my head as she continued the spell. I suddenly felt as if something was ripped out of my chest, I grimaced for a while, then the pain died away slowly. I saw the ruby in our hands shining a bright glow, then dimming rather quickly.

Mother then stood up, slipping her hands through the bars, she places the ruby on my chest, then saying another spell, I felt something like a sharp knife plunge through my heart. Before I knew it, there was a ruby embedded above my heart so deep, it was as if I was born with this rock on me. I didn't know what it was for, but Mother said it would keep me safe from harm. But it was later on that I found out how important that stone was.

Time was up, I was taken away from Mother again and the 'raid' began.

I remember the first times I used all the Unforgiveable curses on all of those Muggle born witches and wizards. I felt like an insane murderer, well maybe not insane yet. Every time they went out on a raid, I went with them. I had to get 100 souls to free my Mother and I. It took a couple more months to get even close to that number. Always, before I go out on the killing spree, I went to visit Mother and day by day, she started to drift further away from me as though I had become a monster. I had tried reaching out to her, but she'd flinch and back away. Does using the killing curse make someone disgusting?

And finally . . . sadly, I got the 100 souls. I went to Hadessa, who was the leader at that time and she smiled that devilish grin and said that I could go see Mother. I was nearly happy, finally, I was free from her and all the others. Of course, it's not a good thing when I have to kill other people to free myself and a family member, but there are sacrifices to be made when it comes to something like this.

But when I came down to Mother's cell . . . it was already too late for me. I felt my world crashing down when I saw her hanging from the ceiling. She had used her own long, threadbare scarf to commit suicide. Greyback came to my side and said, "Guess the news of having a murderer for a son was too much to bear."

So that's it . . . I'm officially a murderer . . . and soon I was living among these Death Eaters as one of their own, well, minus the mark on their arm. During this time, Hadessa and some of the other Death Eaters were caught, tried, and put in Azkaban, while that, the remaining ones went into hiding. The raids that used to be every night, was now nearly never.

It was with Greyback that I stayed. He was my mentor in Dark Arts, a vicious man who didn't care what happened to his prey. I heard he was a werewolf and had tried to bite me before, but then decided against it for some unknown reason.

Yes, this continued for many years, until I turned fourteen. As usual as the past, I participated in all of their raids without a way out of it. I couldn't say 'no' and I couldn't get away from them. There was no way to escape and survive . . . But this time . . . everything was different. Apparently, the true leader of these Death Eaters was returning, they all called him the Dark Lord.

All the Death Eaters told me that I was to infiltrate the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as a regular student. I was to make friends with a Harry Potter and somehow get him to trust me. I didn't like this at all, but what choice did I have? If I did go against their wishes, would that kill me? I didn't know if they could, due to Mother's spell, but I didn't want to take any chances. I didn't want to die, I wanted to see you one more time . . . if that was possible.

Maybe, you were at the school? That one question was the only thing to make me a bit happy. Maybe we could meet again. Just that thought made my heart all happy and bouncing around for joy.

The Death Eaters weren't afraid that I'd expose their identities to any professor at the school, since I don't know any of their faces except for Greyback and Hadessa. I guess they thought I was the perfect 'double agent' material for them to use at the current time. I wouldn't blame them, I would've used the same tactics myself. But I loathed what would happen between you and I if you found out about me . . . would you hate me?

I wouldn't blame you for hating me . . . I am a dirty murderer. Who can love a murderer?

I remember the first time I entered Diagon Alley, it was bustling full of joyous people. I envied them. Why couldn't I live like that? Why did it have to be my family? It wasn't fair that while they live oblivious to the fact that the Dark Lord was returning, I had to bear the burden of betraying a certain fourteen year old boy at any time in his life. I hated the way I was so easy to be manipulated . . . but I didn't want to die . . . who does? Would I really give up my life to just keep this world alive without seeing you again? I couldn't bear that thought. I didn't want to see you again as a pale-faced ghost. How could I express love to you then?

As I was buying all the books necessary, I saw a boy about my age, but a little shorter, trying to reach for a certain monster studies book. There was a reason he couldn't use magic as the book would just magically, try to eat him alive. That had happened several times, kids who used magic on this giant monster book always ended up nearly getting eaten by it. I shook my head and summoning a chair, I stood on it and took it down for him.

"There." I said to him. The boy looks up at me, surprised at first, but then slowly gave way to a beaming smile. That was when I saw the scar on his forehead, that was when I knew this boy was Harry Potter. I smiled back at him and said, "You're welcome." Taking a book for myself, I jumped off the chair and was about to walk off, until I heard him ask, "Are you going to Hogwarts too?" I turned back, still smiling. "Yeah, I'm a couple years late." I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. "Oh?" Harry stared at me with a goofy surprised look on his face.

"Well, if you need anything, I could try to help." He said, that over-friendly grin plastered on his face. "Since you helped me, a bit." I couldn't help, but smile along. Now this was going well, but when time came for the betrayal . . . that was going to be hard . . .

"Really?" I ogled him rather happily. "That'd be great! Thanks!" I hugged him so tight and fast it felt like we were going to fall over. "It's no problem." Harry choked and laughed. "Come on, what else do you need?"

"I still need some new robes, a wand, and some quills." I remembered my old wand that I had used the other day. It had snapped when I used a ridiculously hard spell during lessons.

It was an ancient spell that I had recently started creating, it wasn't completely perfected yet. It was to be known as the spell of self-destruction, Balus is one of those spells that have the tendency to destroy the caster in order to be cast correctly. If the caster didn't have the correct amount of magic in his/her body—which needs to be a lot—the spell wouldn't work. So yeah, that was the reason why my wand had snapped. Luckily, I was only thrown against the wall with a gigantic crack with no broken bones and still having a head on my neck.

Greyback was furious, but well, with no wand and absolutely no knowledge whatsoever about wandless magic, I was off from dark arts lessons until I got myself a new wand. Right now I was just using an old wand I had taken from a dead muggle-born wizard, hoping that no one notices who's wand it belonged to and trust me, a wand that's not completely your own can cause big problems when you try a hard spell.

"Okay." Harry smiled and led me out the door after purchasing the books. "I know a good place to buy wands." And he led me out of the shop and onto the bustling street.

As we went, he introduced me to two of his other friends. A boy with flaming red hair—a dozen shades lighter than Hadessa—and freckles was Ron Weasley and a girl with bushy hair and intelligent looking eyes was Hermione Granger. I got a long with them quite well, I guess it was because I was with Harry?

When we reached Ollivander's shop of wands, I was excited. This was my second time shopping for wands, the first being with my parents. That thought penetrated my mind and nearly sent me on a crying jag, but I managed to keep it in. I didn't want to suddenly cry in the middle of a shop, Harry would ask what's wrong for sure. Plus, it would be embarrassing, no?

The old man brought out several wands, but none of them worked, sadly. I was beginning to think maybe the old man was getting tired of getting out all those wands too, but he continued. I guess it would be a bad name for his shop if he didn't get me a wand. He stood there looking at all of his wands when suddenly, it was like a light bulb flashed above his head. He beamed and went into the back of his shop and brought out a rather old black box.

"Here you are." He said opening it, revealing a rather fancy wand made of beautifully, polished black jet with engraved serpents slithering up and down the sides. "This is a very old wand as you can see, not many people use stone-made wands anymore, since it is heavy. It's never been bought before for several reasons, one being rather testy about its owner, but you can give it a try."

It was said that old stone wands were hard to possess these days, due to its higher requirements in order to own one and its insanely higher properties of magical materials. I picked it up and almost immediately, the wand started to glow a vibrant green color. The shop owner was bug-eyed. "Odd." He said. "That wand's never responded to anyone before. To be the owner of such an old wand, you must be harboring either a large amount of magic within you or a stupid amount of sheer luck."

I only smiled. "Really?" If it's luck, then I'm going to need a lot of it . . .

Later on, all four of us headed to the train. It was rather fun running through the wall, although I was wondering what the other people might think if they saw some kids run through the wall and disappear. Or did they notice it at all? Hmm . . . maybe not.

The train was filled with either new students or students coming again for another year of learning. As we made our way through the compartments, my eye caught an image of someone with platinum blond hair. It immediately made me think of you. I smiled bitterly to myself and wondered if you were still going to this school or not and if we did meet again, would you still remember me? Or have you forgotten me altogether? That thought broke my heart and sent tears to my eyes. I blinked them back and tried smiling to get them to go away.

"There's no other place left." Hermione grumbled and opened a compartment door and walked in. I saw Harry and Ron mutter something under their breath. I didn't know what was so wrong, but then I saw that there were already three students inside all sitting to one side of the small room. "We got here first Mudblood." A girl with neck-length dark hair sneered. _God, she looked ugly like that. _Hermione didn't listen and just sat down on the other side. "Well, this happens to be the only compartment left with some room to actually sit down, so shove off."

I winced at the sound of venom in her voice. She sure can be scary when she wants to. Pity the fool who marries her and gets her upset. I didn't want to attract any trouble, so without staring at the oh-so ugly girl, I just stepped in after Harry.

But when I did, a familiar voice called my name, making me turn to the other direction. My eyes caught the image of a tall boy with platinum blond hair and slightly greyish-blue eyes. I knew an overly happy grin made its way across my face. I didn't care who saw us, I just launched into your arms and hugged you, laughing and crying your name. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad. It was great to see you again, but at the same time I don't want you to see me betray the world and follow the Dark Lord.

I remember feeling your warm embrace around me. I can still see those shocked faces of your friends and my newly made ones as we hugged. God, I missed feeling your warmth. I missed feeling your arms circle me and missed hearing you say my name. You asked me how I was, where I was, and what happened. Of course . . . I could only tell you lies.

I had to say that my parents decided a last-minute trip around the world without telling anyone even me. I was left at my Great Aunt Lowella who lived in Switzerland and that I was tortured by her day and night. When you asked why I didn't letter you, I had to lie even further saying that Aunt Lowella's owl, Hefrin, wasn't a nice bird to even ask for postage.

I felt horrible telling you all of these lies. But what could I say? Of course you didn't look convinced, but still smiled at me anyways. I loved seeing that sincere smile on your face, it was like a second sun in my world; a blessing from heaven. It didn't take long for you to start talking about what I had missed during those years and oh, how much I've missed out of your life.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't seem to like you, but that's alright. Not everybody can get along together and I won't try to bring them together just yet. Perhaps, it's better if they don't . . . Your friends—Pansy, Blaise, and two other boys—didn't seem to care about me as I wasn't 'sorted' yet, as Pansy put it. The train ride was full of bickering and peace-making, eating and discussing on the new school year.

As I sat beside you, I couldn't help, but wonder what it would've been like if my family wasn't attacked and taken over by Death Eaters. Would we have still been friends four years later or would we have walked our separate ways? Would we have gotten closer than now or stay as acquaintances during our childhood?

The sorting hat had trouble thinking of which house to put me in. To the Sorting Hat, I had the Gryffindor loyalty, Hufflepuff's friendliness, Ravenclaw's intelligence, yet Slytherin heart. It took a while, but at last, I was sorted into Gryffindor much to my dismay. I wanted to get into Slytherin to be with you, but I had to get into Gryffindor to complete my mission.

It was during this year that Hogwarts was hosting the Triwizard Tournament. I remember seeing the parade of the two other schools coming to the school, the Beauxbaton Academy and the Durmstrang Institute. I remember seeing Harry's name being called from the goblet of fire like the Dark Lord had planned and just as he'd known, Ron and nearly the rest of the school shunned Harry for being a 'cheater', 'liar' and so forth. At that time, I was to be his friend when all others mock and despise him.

You weren't close to him from the beginning, so of course, you used that as an opportunity to tease him. I couldn't stop you, even when we were children, no matter what I say, you'd always be the more dominant one of the two of us. Then the Dark Arts teacher transfigured you into a white ferret much to my surprise and horror. I knew that it wasn't truly Moody, but that weird eye of his always freaked me out, polyjuice or not. Professor McGonagall was appalled and tried to stop him immediately.

Now whenever someone talked about Moody, you'd shiver slightly. Although I must say, you made a handsome ferret. I wish I could go back to those days at Hogwarts when all we ever did was talk about school, tease one another, get in trouble and so forth. We didn't have to go through all the troubles of Death Eaters and Dark Lords or which sides we were on.

The Tournament began and Harry's first test was with dragons. Thanks to certain people, he found out, but that didn't help him prepare for what could happen once he stepped into that ring with the Hungarian Horntail. Summoning and riding his Firebolt, he managed to get the egg from the dragon. The Dark Lord's plans were slowly coming together.

It didn't take long until the last test. This night, I wouldn't be the one watching Harry go through the maze and wait for him to return. I was to be with the other Death Eaters when the Dark Lord returned. Though I didn't have the mark, I had spent too much time with them to not be present. Well, according to Greyback anyways.

I remember lying to you yet again that I didn't feel good and wasn't going to be at the tournament. You didn't seem convinced but then shrugged and walked away stating that I'd be missing out when Harry comes back defeated. I could only stifle the laugh I felt, since I knew Harry wouldn't lose, not with Barty Jr. with him; not with a Death Eater making sure the Chosen One met with the Dark Lord.

Wormtail made a ritual to give back Voldemort's body. Apparently, the ritual was found in a forbidden book in the hidden archives that Hadessa wanted years ago when she tortured my family into giving out the location. Now that I think about it, the Balus spell that I had found was also in one of those Ancient Dark Magic books . . .

I witnessed the ugly murder of Cedric Diggory, the horrid rebirth of the misshapen Dark Lord, and his insanity. It shocked me terribly to find out your father was among the Death Eaters . . . I wonder if he knew what my family had to go through . . . Was he part of those cloaked men that night?

I couldn't stand to think about such thoughts at this time of life. I had distrusted so many people, I thought that it was just me that I could rely on. There was no one else in the world that could understand what I had to go through, not even in dreams could they know. Perhaps the only way to find peace is to die. But I didn't want that either.

Barty Crouch Jr. was soon caught and sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss. One less Death Eater in the open world . . . and yet, Voldemort didn't seem so unhappy to see him tortured and imprisoned.

I knew that school wouldn't be what I had dreamed of when I was ten, but this . . . this was far worse than a nightmare. I had to live through this and even if the Dark Lord did end up dead, would I still be free or would someone have ratted me out to the Ministry? Even if the Dark Lord did die by Harry's hands . . . would I still be able to live a normal life?

When Harry portkeyed away, I was brought to the Dark Lord, who was told about what I had done. I was examined by the lizard-faced man, his red eyes gleamed in the night as he searched my face. When he saw what he wanted, he laughed and placed the mark on my arm. Now whenever I look at that arm, even with the sleeve covering it, I still feel dirtied . . . sullied . . . I hated what I had become. My only comfort was meeting you in the morning and going through classes like normal.

Our days at the school went by, both happy and sad memories were like a black and white movie playing in my head every time I go to bed. Even though your friends didn't like you hanging out with Gryffindors and my 'friends' didn't like me hanging out with Slytherins, we didn't care; we knew each other before we became Slytherin or Gryffindor.

Fourth year went by and soon we were entering as Fifth years. The Dark Lord's plans were to make Harry find a certain prophecy so he—the Dark Lord—could take it. I don't know what the prophecy was, but apparently, it is something that contains vital information about the both of them.

During this year, Lord Voldemort managed to free a certain Death Eater who had been staying in Azkaban for so long. A woman named Bellatrix Lestrange. She was so happy to be out of that prison and be beside her master. If I hadn't known any better, I would've said she had feelings for the lizard-faced man. Ugh, now I'm going to have nightmares. Even Hadessa was out and already making my life a misery.

I remember fifth year being a menace, since Dolores Umbridge came along and took over the school within a few months' time. She went from Dark Arts Professor, to High Inquisitor, then finally, Head Mistress of Hogwarts. I'm not sure if she's on Lord Voldemort's side or not, but she certainly has that nasty air about her. Oh wait, that might just be her perfume.

I remember you wanted to become part of the Inquisitorial Squad. I wasn't going to join, seeing as how I'd need to stay close to Harry. We had an argument on why I kept taking Harry's side and not yours. When I think of it now, I laugh and wonder why in the world did we sound like jealous lovers when we certainly weren't. In anger, you left and stopped talking to me for a long time.

Although it hurt, I couldn't let your dominance take complete control of me. There are some things I could do for you and some things I just can never do, not matter how much I want to. I longed to be by your side, but with all these Death Eater business that I now have on my plate, there's nothing I can do without ruining Harry's trust. I could say that I just wanted to join for fun, but that'd turn the whole Gryffindor tower against me and that isn't good for a double agent.

How I wish I could tell what makes this heart heavy, but no . . . that can't happen, especially not without you finding out about what really happened during those past four years.

Professor Snape, also a Death Eater, kept a wary eye on me. Either he's afraid that I'm not that loyal to the Dark Lord or the fact that I might just make a mistake in my mission. Well, whatever it was, I didn't care at that moment. He can stare and glare all he wants, I've done nothing wrong that he hasn't. Surely, he must've lied to bunches of people before for good and bad purposes. Plus, I've only killed when I had to, which was usual, since the Death Eaters wanted me to be a crazed murderer like them.

After a long term of silence, the Weasley twins made one last prank on the unsuspecting Head Mistress, sending fireworks through the air and exploding with such colors and finesse. They flew out of the school on their brooms and never returned to school.

Lucky . . . they can escape when they want to . . . and here I am, a chained dog of the Dark Lord. How pathetic it made me feel . . . the weakness in me . . . afraid of dying, yet afraid of living at the same time. All I wanted to was to live with no worries of being dogged by the Death Eaters or the Ministry. Couldn't that wish come true?

I remember seeing Harry and his friend, Hermione take the old pink nugget through the forest in search of a certain 'weapon' that Hermione claimed Dumbledore created. I knew Harry was wanting to go to the Ministry, due to a certain 'vision' he saw from Voldemort. Luckily for them, the old hag was taken away by centaurs to wherever they were heading off to.

It didn't take long for Harry and his friends to enter the Ministry walls by thestrals, all the way to the Department of Mysteries. There, I witnessed the battle between Death Eaters and Fifth year students. Of course, I was to participate, but I made sure to only use stuns and stay out of sight from the other Death Eaters. If they ever found out I hadn't been fighting seriously, then it'd result in heavy training again.

Your father fought against all of them, not backing up one bit, trying his best to get the prophecy from Harry. I watched as the battle went straight to a rather peculiar room with a ragged, stone arch in the middle. It was here that Voldemort tried to destroy Harry, but . . . Dumbledore came and everything had to be postponed. Once coming home, the lizard man was furious as if it were our fault that Harry got away.

But it was during this summer that you suffered the major blow of your lifetime. Your father was finally caught, tried for being a Death Eater and thrown in Azkaban along with the majority of the family pride. I know you looked up to your father a lot even if he was never really close to you.

Then, as if it wasn't bad enough, Voldemort wanted you as a Death Eater to kill Dumbledore. I wanted to protest, but got jabbed in the ribs by Bellatrix before I could say anything. I guess she knew what I was about to say, since I could just kill the old man for him. But no, Voldemort wanted to use your fear for your family as motivation to kill Dumbledore. I hated the way this pale-faced, nose-less freak thought. It irked me to not able to help you even when I'm near the inner circle of this insane beast.

I remember meeting you in Diagon Alley with your mom, trying the best as you can to keep your usual pure-blood face when people scowl and sneer at you. You were in Madame Malkin's shop when I approached you. You still hadn't forgotten what we fought about before, since you turned away instead of the usual smiley greeting. I couldn't blame you. We had grown different from what we had wanted when younger, of course, there will be disputes . . . what hurt the most was the fact that our first argument lasted nearly months.

I walked up to you and tugged lightly at your sleeve. I was looking at the floor, at my shoes, so as not to see how pained or angry your face was. I remember mumbling words of comfort to you, but since I couldn't see your face, I didn't know whether or not you had received them. I remember feeling a little pat on my head, signalling your peace with me. That was when I dared to look up, only to see that you had that wounded look as if you had just been betrayed.

I didn't know what to do but hug you like you did for me when we were kids. I don't know how long we've been in that tight embrace, yet . . . it didn't matter to me. We were finally back together—as friends of course—and finally, after so many months, I get to feel your warmth again. Who knows when we'll be able to hug like this again? Perhaps this would be the last as I don't know when I might die or when you might find out about me and leave . . .

Sixth year was a pain literally. Harry had suspected you, as the Dark Lord had known he would, and followed you to all sorts of places to try and find out what you were up to. Being just a friend, I could only accompany him and help him follow you.

God, it's hard being friends with both sides of the coin.

A fight happened in the boys' bathroom when I wasn't with Harry. Although the rumors were kept silent by the teachers of the school, I found out of course. Harry had thrown a _Sectum Sempra _curse at you. The one Harry found in the strangely, old and tattered potions book. I could still remember seeing you lie on that white bed with all those bandages around your chest. Professor Snape had managed to heal most of it, but the wound still needed the medication of Madame Pompfrey.

At this time, Harry had also found out about the Horcruxes. Once I heard of it, I smiled inwardly to myself. So that's how that shriveled pig kept living, he had his soul in different objects—probably—around the world. I decided that maybe I'd be a little ignorant of this fact and kept it to myself without reporting it. I knew that I could just pretend that I couldn't follow the old man and Harry when they left the school.

But when they came back, the Dark Lord's plans was already unveiling when you finished fixing the Vanishing Cabinet. I wasn't to be present at that sight, so keeping quiet in the dark, I watched you hold your wand against the Head Master. Dumbledore tried to persuade you to let him help you and you started lowering your wand when Bellatrix entered the tower.

I could see Harry's hand itching to reach for his wand, but with Dumbledore's strict order and the constant nagging of fear at the back of his throat, he kept still and continued to watch, like I did. In the end, you couldn't kill the Head Master and Professor Snape had to do for you. I watched Harry's eyes widen in horror and grief the same as I watched your eyes bulge in disbelief.

The Great Dumbledore has died.

I couldn't step in and help you . . . how weak I felt when all I could do was watch you from the sidelines. I don't think I'll even be able to help you get rid of these nightmares, since you don't know I'm a Death Eater. I can tell you already hate being one . . .what if you found out about me? Would you even stand to listen after I say that I'm one myself?

I didn't want to take the chance.

I remember seeing you walk off the school grounds with Professor Snape, Bellatrix, and the rest of the Death Eaters. I was to stay with Harry as Voldemort's inner eye when his mind couldn't penetrate into Harry's.

I never got to say good bye to you that year and the next year, we met again at your Manor. While the whole world thought that I was taken away from school by my thought-to-be-alive parents, I was, in truth, wearing the black cloak and silver mask in the Dark Lord's presence. My double agent days were over. It was during the time when the Voldemort stayed at your manor, making life miserable for you and your family.

As I wasn't part of the inner circle and only followed either Hadessa's or Bellatrix's orders, I wasn't allowed to be in the meeting room—aka dining room—when the Dark Lord discussed his plans. It was fine with me, at least this way, you'd probably never find out about me. Well, hopefully anyways.

The days turned into weeks and weeks into months as the war continued. The search for Harry and his friends continued. One day, a band of snatchers caught three people, who they said were Harry, Hermione, and Ron, although the three of them claimed to be someone else. Hermione and Ron I could recognize, it was Harry that I had trouble with, since his face looked rather . . . bloated somewhat.

When Bellatrix urged you to make sure it was Harry, I could see the hesitation on your face. It was Harry . . . well, with a stinging hex anyways. But you never confirmed it. Perhaps, you knew that even if Voldemort did win this war, you and your family would never be able to survive his tyranny? I knew for sure that even if that lizard faced creep won, my life would never be 'happy' as he likes it.

While Bellatrix was saying something to your parents, I saw Harry mumble something to you. You looked shocked in an instant, then slowly turned into deep consideration. What did Harry say to you?

Switching sides, apparently, since about a minute later, you were helping them escape the manor. For a second, my heart jumped in fear. I was scared that one of the Death Eaters would've killed you on the spot for betrayal, but no one got that chance.

I smiled inwardly for a bit as I scaled the walls like a black snake. I have to remember that you were always the better duelist among the both of us. You were the stronger one, the intelligent, proud, _perfect _one. Sometimes I forget just how powerful you are and what kind of 'threat' you could become if you so desired it. With Bellatrix's orders to secure—not to kill—my intention of letting you and Harry leave was my first priority.

With help from your house elf—well, former house elf—Dobby, everyone Apparated away. Bellatrix, of course, blames it on my incompetency to cast a body binding charm and wonders how in the world I even got the Dark Mark. I pretended to sound angry and upset at your betrayal, but deep inside, I felt quite smug about myself.

Your parents stood in the house dumbfounded and afraid of what could happen to them as soon as your mental aunt tells her lord of the problem. What was going to happen to you once you left their side? Was the Dark Lord going to kill you too? Was the Malfoy family going to die out sooner than they thought?

Maybe the latter question was more important to them. . . maybe . . .

When we were alone, Hadessa struck my cheek so strong and hard that it sent my mask flying to the ground. "All those years of teaching you and you couldn't even cast a single body binding charm? It had better not happen again Eagle Eyes." She spat my Death Eater nick name like tobacco. The nickname Eagle Eyes was given to me because of my sharp sight and quick wordless spells. I was never proud of that name, but I'd rather have them call me that than my real name . . .

The days went by with praying and hoping that you'd be okay out there. That one day we'd meet again as friends and not enemies. I prayed those prayers every morning to night. Thoughts went through my mind as the days went on. What were you doing now? How are you doing? Were you still with Harry or have you parted ways? How much I wished that I could've been there with you to walk with you, to talk to you, to comfort you . . .

But no . . . fate just had to put us on the wrong sides . . .

It was nightfall when Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked the school that we dreamed of entering when ten years of age. I saw the walls, roofs, towers crumble into rubble and nothingness. I felt the tears fall down my cheeks as I continued raining curses down on the other students and teachers of the school. I remember hearing the magical barriers break and fall with a cry. I remember seeing fire, smoke, death . . .

So much death . . . so much despair . . .

I remember seeing Harry walk into that forest and letting Voldemort throw that killing curse at him. I had thought all hope was gone at that moment . . . with the Chosen One gone . . . who was going to save me now? Your mom declares him dead . . . I could see the relieved victory expression plastered all over the Dark Lord's face. Yeah . . . he was happy . . . We marched to the broken bridge of Hogwarts with Harry's corpse held by the half-giant, Hagrid.

I remember walking across that bridge and hearing lizard face proclaim the Chosen One dead. Harry's friends were desperately clinging onto their last fibre of hope that their friend was still alive and just unconscious. I guess I would have to say that I was too. Maybe it's a human trait to keep hoping for something foolishly hopeless.

Then a miracle occurred when Harry came back to life and sprung to action. I remember all the Death Eaters trying their best to kill as many witches and wizards as possible, not caring whether they were women or children, young or old. Ordered by Bellatrix, I was to kill all those on the opposing side.

I guess you all must be wondering why I didn't just switch sides. It is quite simple . . . would they have accepted me back? Would I have been able to continue my former free life or continue my miserable, dogged one until I die? Maybe I would still be tried and thrown in Azkaban for all they care. Besides, this is the Ministry we're talking about, I highly doubt that just switching sides is going to help me regain my former life.

The miracle of Harry being alive was followed by my nightmare: Dueling you.

I don't quite remember how it had happened. One minute I was wandering the near empty halls of the school and entering the courtyard, searching—or rather trying my best not to kill—and the next I was trying to shield myself from your constant hexes. I still had my silver mask on along with the black hooded cloak, thank god. I wouldn't want to see your face right now. The southern courtyard was extremely empty, except for the now-and-then falling of stones and explosions from the other sides of the school where the war was continuing.

I was desperately trying to figure out a way to keep you alive and away from the war without having to hex you. No matter what I've become, one thing I had sworn never to do was hurt you, even if it was to save you. Maybe a simple stunning hex would keep you safe, but I'm no duelist and you were always the better one, you'd have a shield up in no time.

A loud shriek caught my attention. It was Hadessa, she was demanding why I hadn't killed the traitor yet. She was wanting your death by my hands . . . and that was never going to happen. I was never going to be the hands to kill you. Come death or the Dark Lord, there was no way I was killing you. Seeing my hesitation, you stopped throwing hexes, but never let your guard down.

The debating in my mind had reached its conclusion. I turned to the red-haired woman and defiantly said, "No." In anger, she grits her teeth and asked in a faux calm voice, "Is this because of _him_?" I didn't answer and just stood staring at her. "So I will just have to rid of HIM!" She screams and sends a wordless curse straight towards you.

Scared, I got in the way, using the only spell I could think of at that moment to destroy her and save you. "Balus!"

I could feel my magic being stripped from my body and being dragged through my jet-black stone wand. The color of the dark spell came out as an ugly, brownish-red; the color of dry blood. As soon as my curse hit her square in the chest, her spell hits home at my throat. I could feel a sudden sharp pain in my neck and stomach as though some wild beast had clawed at my flesh.

As I staggered from the curse, I could hear her shrieks of pain as her body started destroying itself. Muscles, bones, and blood separated from each other and landed on the floor in a grotesque heap of flesh. Balus could've been called a killing curse also, but since it required too much of the caster, not many people used it. I could hear your gasp of horror, I wouldn't blame you. I wanted to puke . . . I couldn't believe the spell had actually worked the way I wanted it to and I was still in one piece, no limbs missing . . .

I started to feel dizzy and unbalanced. Everything went numb and cold for me as I crumpled to the floor. I could feel the slashes on my neck and stomach splitting open whenever I coughed up the blood in my lungs. I could feel something like warm, sticky liquid dripping from my entire body. I guess it wasn't just my throat that got hit with whatever the curse was. My body was getting colder, I could feel myself breathing in shakily.

I hear faint footsteps coming nearer to my body. You were lowering down and taking off my mask. Heh, such bad timing to actually catch me isn't it? Or maybe it's good, since I wouldn't be living long to cry and weep when you leave me here on the ground to die. The silver mask slips off my face and I see your horrid shocked and pained expression.

You mumble my name into a whisper as you fall on your knees beside me. Your silver grey eyes wide and full of hurt, your body shaking from the discovery. I could only crack a sad smile and whispered, "I'm sorry . . ." I can still see your angry tears streaming down your pale face like rivers from heaven's point of view. "I never . . . wanted . . . to hurt you." I continued whispering.

I managed to tell you some of the truth that's really happened. I could still see the lines of anger on your face. I don't think you'd understand now and I didn't have much time either. I continued coughing blood and the gashes on my body kept getting wider, letting more blood ooze out of my body. I couldn't even breathe properly either, my voice spoke in ragged, choked sounds.

"Why?" you mumble, a shadow appears on your face as you lower your head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I didn't answer. I'm sure you knew the answer to that question . . . all forced ones do . . . I coughed, the coppery taste of blood flooded my mouth.

Suddenly, you grab hold of my hand and tell me to hang on, that you'd find help. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, I squeezed back, smiling as much as I could. Then, reluctantly, I had to let you go as you ran off saying sweet promises like a lullaby to me.

Now when I stare up at the sky, I mentally smacked myself for actually not telling you about my feelings. Every minute, my blood continues to flood the cracks in the floor. I guess this is where my story ends. Such a sad ending for a Death Eater . . . or maybe not. At least, I managed to protect you in the end. Did I do well in that part or did I still fail miserably?

The sky was getting darker and there were no clouds to accompany the monotonous, death-like color. I could small raindrops starting to fall from heaven. Is it crying I wonder? I smiled again as I stared up at the sky. I could feel my vision starting to blur bit by bit and my body was shaking more often now. If I was well, I would've said the rain was making me cold, but no . . .

The sounds of your footsteps and voice were reassuring, but my eyes were already starting to close. My breath was getting heavier and I couldn't even feel my surroundings, let alone see them.

"But he's a bloody Death Eater!" I could hear someone familiar shout.

"Yeah! What would happen if we do save him and he kills us?" another voice wanted to know.

"It doesn't matter! He saved me!" You yelled back.

Someone grabs onto my hand and calls out my name. I try to open my eyes, but only a tiny bit opened clearer for me to see your face. You were repeating assuring words that I'd be okay. I could see Harry, Hermione, and Ron with him, along with some Medi-Witches/Wizards. The remaining Professors were also there staring down at me in shock.

"I can't believe it . . . another student." Professor McGonagall rubbed her forehead, whispering to the other teachers.

"I never thought he'd be one of _them_." Professor Sprout shook her head as if sorry for my actions.

I laughed quietly to myself. Yeah, I thought that's what they'd all say when they found out my identity. You look down at me, curious at why I was laughing. I shake my head, still smiling ruefully. Is the sky getting darker or is it just me? I wanted to ask, but nothing came out besides the loud, hurtful coughs that made me spit out more blood.

"He's lost too much blood." One of the Medi-Wizards shook his head, while trying his best to stop the bleeding.

"There's got to be something you could do!" You scream at them.

Ohh . . . so that's why I'm feeling colder. It's odd . . . how much time slows down when you're dying . . . even odder is when you even forget that you're dying . . . or is that just me? Is this what death feels like? A lot more peaceful than how I had anticipated.

I called out to you, my hand was starting to lose its grip and the world was starting to get more blurry as the minutes passed. I could hear faint calls of urgency in the background and someone telling me to keep hanging on. I could hear people in the background calling for certain objects and some were crying. I tried to focus my eyesight on you until there was just a single spotlight on your teary face. Trying to muster the last of my strength and will, I caressed your cheek and wiped a single tear.

"I . . . Love . . . You."

Then my world went black as the screams and yelling in the background faded away into dead silence.

* * *

(Laugh)

If this is death . . . then I'd rather call it eternal slumber. I don't see a Hell or a Heaven . . . just complete darkness. There's no angel or demon to come welcome me to their respectable realms. I think I'm walking on nothing . . . although I can't be sure. I look around, but nothing's there. Of course, I laugh at myself, everything is black, so is the floor that I'm standing on. I think I'm trying to find something . . . but what is it?

I hear someone call my name. The voice is very familiar. "Come back." It says. The voice sounded unbelievably sad and somewhat hopeless. I tried to find out from where the voice was calling me. "Come back to me." Why did it sound so grieved? What was causing this emotion? My slow steps quickly turned to running as I tried to find out where the voice was coming from.

"Who are you?" I called out into the darkness. "Where are you?"

But the voice only continues pleading, "Come back. Come back to me."

I continued to search in vain for the correct location. My heart beat faster each moment. Where was I? If this is death . . . shouldn't I at least be somewhere? Who's voice is this? Why does it sound so familiar to me? Why does it sound so pained? Where did it come from and how do I get there? Why does the voice affect me so much? Why do I feel like crying when I hear it?

I crouched down and hugged my knees to my chest. My own warm tears fall to the floor like small raindrops. "Where . . . are you?" I mumbled to the voice. "I . . . can't find you . . ."

"This way." Another voice was heard in the distance, causing my head to look up from my now-wet arms.

"Where?" I look around as the second voice called again. "This way . . . my son . . . follow me."

My eyes widened at the familiar second voice. "Mother?" I turned to where the second voice originated and saw my mother standing there in her beautiful, expensive gown of white lace with her arms out spread to receive me. "Come, you must return. It's not your time yet." She smiled.

* * *

"He's awake!"

"What?"

"A miracle!"

"How'd he survive?"

I could hear so many voices. A bright light kept my eyes squinting. I couldn't tell, but maybe there were near five to six people around me. My eyes were slowly getting accustomed to the light and were gradually opening wider for me to see properly. To my surprise, you were there along with Harry, his friends, and the Medi-Witches in the room.

You were holding onto my hand tightly, your face full of that obvious joy. That was when I noticed your parents standing behind you, smiling and holding onto each other—for joy? I don't know. I was debating whether it was for joy or for fear of being killed at any moment by the possible Aurors in the building, when you sudden cupped my face and smashed your lips on mine. I was shocked at first, but then—forgetting about all the eyes on us at that moment—slowly wrapped my arms around your neck and leaned deeper into our first kiss—or rather our first kissing session.

I could faintly hear the gasps of shock—from Harry and his friends—and indignation—from your parents—along with the 'ahems' that Medi-Witches were making, but if you didn't care, why should I? Finally, after a few minutes of continues kisses and ignorance of the calls to stop, we heard the door click and lock. You smile sheepishly at me and I could tell that I was blushing, since my face felt so hot.

You told me what had happened after I had presumably died. "Apparently," you said as your finger touched the ruby on my chest. Wow, I'd actually forgotten I had that thing stuck there. "This, saved you." You said simply. I looked up and you laughed. Yeah, I think my face said what I wanted to: huh?

That was when I remembered the first time I saw Mother in the jails of the Riddle house. "Oh yeah . . ." I muttered and retold my story to you. The Elistorel spell was a ritual that needed two people to complete and was a very strong spell to keep one alive, but there was only family in the world to know this ritual and that was my family. Or maybe Mother's side of the family.

I told you of the break-in about seven years ago. I told you of my parents' deaths and the events that followed when I became a Death Eater. I told you of how I felt when I first met you again after all those years of pain and loneliness. I told you of the _Balus _spell and how gross it made me feel when I used it, along with the pain of feeling magic ripped out of my body to make it work. All the time, you kept holding onto my hands and staring into my eyes, giving me your utmost attention. I told you about how I met Mother in my 'death' dream, telling me to return home, that it wasn't my time yet.

When I finished re-telling my whole past to you, you wrapped your arms around me and pulled me back into that warm embrace that made me melt. There was more from your side of the story. It seems like your parents had escaped Azkaban and so have you, but I hadn't yet. As soon as the Ministry found out that I hadn't died, they had placed Aurors to guard the door of my hospital room just to make sure I didn't escape if I did wake up.

It was obvious that Harry wouldn't be able to speak on my behalf, since I was a double-agent. Although I didn't tell Voldemort about them finding Horcruxes, there was no proof that I had even heard of such things. So, I was obviously half way to Azkaban already, according to Shacklebolt who told you anyways. There was no one to fight for my behalf and there was nothing that I did to redeem myself except save you.

"It isn't a surprise to me actually." I told you. Your eyes widened only a tiny bit. "I haven't done anything good, besides save you . . ." I smiled sheepishly. "And saving you isn't really going to save me . . . so I guess it's obvious that I'd still go to Azkaban."

I paused for a moment, looking down at my hands. Yeah, I knew I'd end up in Azkaban if Voldemort was destroyed. Of course, I am a murderer; I have killed undoubtedly over a hundred people already. My eyes were starting to tear up. Right when I thought nothing could get any worse . . . I am again about to be separated from you . . . except this time we will both still be alive, but with the walls of Azkaban keeping us apart.

Reluctantly, you had to leave. The Medi-Witches who were taking care of me were getting impatient with having to wait to check up on me. You kissed me one last time on the lips before whispering promises of seeing me the next day. "I'll find a way." You whispered into the kiss before leaving with your family.

That night I sat up in bed wondering what tomorrow would bring. As I wasn't fully recovered, my trial would be delayed until three days later. I was seriously considering to use a cutting curse on myself so I could stay longer, but no . . . that wouldn't help.

You kept your promises, coming every day to see how I was. Every day was filled with showering kisses and sweet words. I felt as though I were in heaven . . . but of course, I wasn't, since heaven doesn't ever stop being blissful. You kept me up to date on your constant plans to save me from the bars of Azkaban, but so far there wasn't a single plan that hasn't had a flaw to it. You sit at the edge of my bed staring down your clasped hands on mine. Your eyes in deep concentration as though trying to figure out how to kill the Minister and take over the Wizard world so we wouldn't be separated.

"You know . . ." you suddenly spoke. "I've . . . been in love with you . . . ever since we were kids." Rose tainted your usual, pale cheeks as you turned away. I blinked in surprise for a few moments, before settling back to silent happiness as you continued, "When you suddenly disappeared, I never forgot you and tried endlessly to find you. I had thought all hope was lost, but when we met on that train . . . I felt as though the world was starting to become a much better place." You paused for a moment to look out the window at the clear, yet chilly autumn blue skies.

I laid my hand down on yours. Your silver eyes met mine and you smiled. "There's still time . . . to be happy." I said, though I knew that time was short. It was already my third day. Tomorrow morning was my trial and so far there were no good plans to free me from Azkaban. You squeeze my hand tight and promised, "I'll find a way. Then, we can be happy for a much longer time, I promise."

I smiled and leaned back against the puffy pillow behind me. "I don't doubt you."

"Wait for me." You whispered, leaning in closer to me, our lips mere centimeters away.

"I will . . ."

Our kissing session took up near more than an hour, much to the blushing Medi-Witches' dismay. Apparently, they had tried to get our attention, but like the first day here, we didn't even hear them at all. As you left, you continued saying those promises to me as if to reassure that everything would be alright.

I remembered that night lying in bed and replaying those promises in my head to calm myself down. Yet, there was this small part in my brain saying that there was nothing you could do to keep me from that blasted, horrid place. I kept trying to shake those negative thoughts from my mind and reminded myself that this was you we were talking about. You've never failed me before and I was determined to keep that part pure and clean.

As I was thinking those last sentences of reassurance, a bright light intrudes into my dark and lonely prison—my hospital room—making me sit back up, squinting and shielding my eyes to see what was out there. I heard an unknown spell being casted and next thing I knew, the wards protecting—or rather restricting—me were blown to bits and falling to pieces.

"What the heck?" I tried to make my eyes open wider to see the caster. The spell was fast and uninterrupted. It made me wonder who in the world was this cocky to go up against St. Mungo's wards even with the two Aurors standing guard outside my door. Was it an impatient Auror or wizard or witch who hated me so much they wanted me executed now? Or maybe the Ministry was tired of waiting and had ordered my execution earlier? Oh wait, they don't execute do they? Maybe they wanted to drag me off to Azkaban by force?

All those silly questions and possibilities were thrown in the trash bin when I heard your voice. You were on your broom, your platinum blond hair floating around your face due to the wind. Flying into the room, you grabbed my hand and yanked me through the broken window and onto your broom. "W-what's going on?" as soon as I asked, the door burst open and the Medi-Wizards and Aurors who stood guard came through and were shouting hexes to stop us. But they weren't fast enough and most of their spells missed. Some Medi-Witches were quickly trying to repair the ward, hoping that maybe with enough quick spells, they would be able to lock us in. But no . . .

You quickly flew away from the hospital to the chilly night sky. I could still hear the angry bellows from the Aurors and the sirens of emergency from St. Mungo's. But all of those sounds faded away like the feelings of uncertainty in my heart. As we soared through the sky, the tall, dark, rectangular buildings of the Wizard and Muggle cities slowly disappeared and were replaced by silent meadows and eerie woods. Though many will say that landscapes looked better in the morning, at night, these quiet and peaceful views I see, make wonderful memories to behold. The only things I could hear was the wind and your heartbeat as I held onto you.

We landed in a remote forest at the foot of a mountain. The night air was nipping at my cheeks but I didn't care, I was with you. You grabbed my hand and held me close to you for minutes, saying that you were never going to leave me, that we were going to leave the Wizard world together. "Come Aurors, Dementors, rain or snow, or even my parents, I will never leave you." You mumbled in my ear, making my heart melt. "I don't mind being on the wanted list if it means being with you forever."

You stood back to look at me in the eye and leaned closer until I feel your warm breath on my cheeks. "I love you." I don't know if I was crying or not, but I felt shaky in the knees. Was it real? Was my dream coming true? Did you really just confess love to me? I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on as if my life depended on it. I was afraid that this was all a dream and that I'd wake up to the Aurors dragging me to the trial and then to Azkaban. I was afraid that your soothing voice would soon fade away to nothingness, leaving me empty and void of happiness . . . But no, you were still here with me. We were still in each other's arms, showering one another with loving kisses and eternal promises. As we kissed in that dark, yet comforting forest, I didn't care what the world threw at me anymore, as long as you're with me, I can bear them.

You grabbed my hand—later on—and Apparated us to a ruined mansion that used to be a temporary headquarters for the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Here, we rummaged through the wards and barriers on a certain room that held all of the Dark magic books that I had learned and that the Death Eaters had managed to hide. Using the spells, perhaps we'd be able to hide from the Ministry. The spells would take time to master, but it was better than nothing. Right now, we had each other and that meant the world to me, more than any old, tattered, magic book could ever give.

The Death Eaters had kept these so-called forbidden books here just in case some of them had survived and wanted vengeance. Sadly, they probably will never find them as you and I had already placed all those books into a mokeskin pouch that you had with you. How you got it? I don't know. You only smiled mysteriously at me when I asked. Perhaps, it had something to do with your Malfoy scheming mind.

We threw away our old wands and secretly got new ones, thanks to glamour spells. The old wands could've had tracking spells on them to find us. The clothes could wait, since we could always buy them at the different cities we'll be running to. We threw away all the things we wore or held onto before leaving the hospital just in case there were any, except for the clothes.

For a week, we continued to apparate across England to Scotland—since we were that used to long distance apparition, we couldn't use it without getting hurt. But still, it managed to keep the Aurors on their toes to keep searching for us. But that limit was soon torn down when we learned _Salire_, a teleportation spell that only required the caster to have seen the desired location or person in order to move. At first, it was quite limited—as we didn't know much places besides a couple countries in Europe—and it exhausted our magic frequently.

We went by planes, boats, cars, buses, and nearly everything else that Muggles invented. My favorite were trains, it reminded me so much of the Hogwarts Express that we probably will never see again, except from afar. We went from exotic, tropical islands to busy, noisy, yet beautiful cities in the west. We only used _Salire _when the Aurors came. I remember seeing your face whenever you used that spell, it was an expression of pure glee and satisfaction. "The best part of this spell, is the fact that not many people know about it. That way, there's a big possibility that the Ministry knows nothing of it or how to track it." I remember you say, your face shining as a child who'd just received a birthday present.

We survived in the Muggle world by transfiguring objects into money. Yes, we could be called cheaters. But what use was magic when you didn't use it when you could? Besides, it's not as if we could transfigure our Galleons into different currency, since we couldn't go back to Gringott's Bank to withdraw money without being found out as wanted criminals. We couldn't work for money either, since it might take too long to receive the pay. If Hermione knew what we were doing, she'd probably send a Howler.

Sometimes we wandered through forests and mountains, content just to be with the other's company. I remember walking on snow-capped mountains with the sun gleaming down on the snow like glass. I remember holding your hand and conversing about random things as we continued our little globe-trotting. Most the days on these wilderness journeys we'd have to have

As weeks went on, our love continued. It would be a lie to say that we were always happy. No, we had out disputes and disagreements, and sometimes they lasted more than a couple days. Sometimes, these arguments were due to the stress of having to run all the time from the Aurors that kept showing up. There was a time when I thought that I was wrong to have thought of you as a soulmate. Yet, we always came back together, renewing our promises to each other with deep, loving kisses.

There was one time I thought for sure would be the last of our relationship.

We were arguing about whether or not to return to the Wizard world. You were sick and tired of all this running and wanted to return to the comfortable life you had in the Manor. As long as your parents were there, you'd never get sent to Azkaban. You kept wishing for what you had before. Fed up, I told you to leave if you were so unhappy with me.

You did.

It lasted a week, a long, tiring, and lonely week. I remember lying on the sofa of our rented apartment in Rome, with my arm over my eyes, trying in vain to cover the bitter tears streaming down in long rivers. I spent nearly all day in the apartment, only going out to buy food or more house supplies. I didn't even care if the Aurors were coming or not. Then a sentence popped in my mind, "Come back . . . Come back to me." Frustrated and angry in the end, I decided to go look for you. I had already put on my coat and was about to open the door when the door opened and revealed you standing there with pink cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

We were both looking weary and tired of the anger that we had been pouring on each other. I cried and held you close. It had been so long, the warmth of your embrace gave off the feeling of safety and home. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." You continuously mumbled softly into my ear. You told me of what had happened after you left, I sat on your lap watching you sip hot cocoa.

You spent your days in Spain, wandering from town to town, looking for a reason to continue this globe-trot. Although the sceneries were wonderful, there was no one to enjoy it with you. "Everything looks gray when you're not with me." You said, looking deep into my eyes. Setting your mug down, you cupped my face and kissed me gently.

It wasn't the senseless kisses we had in the hospital or the days before. This kiss was slow and was more of a soft and warm caress of lips instead. As we continued, you managed to move me until I sat facing you while still in your lap. Our lips parted several times for air, but we'd always come back for more. It became a small cycle; kissing, then parting for air, then kissing some more. I don't know how long it was until we broke apart completely.

Many will call this cheesy and so cliché, but at that moment, I wanted to live with you forever, stay with you no matter what happened. The world could hate us forever, but I didn't care. I love you and that's what matters the most right now. I could live on through all the chaos of the world as long as you were with me. When I said these things to you, your silvery orbs widened slightly before settling back into a soft smile, saying, "I do too . . ."

We could've stayed like that for an even longer time, but one of our wards around the apartment rang, warning us that Aurors were nearby. You smirked and hugged me as the door was kicked down. The Aurors came piling in. "Welcome gentlemen," you said with an air of a pureblood, your arms spread open as if you really were welcoming them. Some of them were gagging at the sight of the odd position we were in. But we didn't care, rather it was funny to see green-faced Aurors. I giggled and you held on tighter. Auror Shacklebolt stepped up and asked us to hand ourselves in quietly.

"No thanks." You said quite calmly. "I like it here." I saw Shacklebolt's jaw clench, then said through gritted teeth, "Very well, in that case, we must bring you back by force." But before anyone could fire a single hex, we had already disappeared using the _Salire _spell.

I remember landing in Paris with wide grins on our faces. Our days in Paris weren't long, but they held one of the most memorable memories.

I remember that day as my birthday. We were in a luxurious hotel, thanks to the money we had transfigured. It was the first night we shared a bed intimately. I remember crying out your name, tears strolling down my face, feelings of love, pain, and pleasure overriding my body. Beads of sweat rolled down your skin as we continued our embrace, you kept whispering my name like a charm to keep us going. Throughout that night, it felt as though there were no Aurors after us and no Ministry, just us and our love for each other. I felt like the world had stopped moving, that we were the only ones awake in the long, starlit night.

I remember waking up embarrassed to even look at your face. I remember you laughing and then trying to take the sheets and pillows away from me so you could take a look. Even when the blankets were gone, I was still hiding my face behind my arms. You continued to coax me to let them down, but I couldn't seem to muster the strength to even peek through the cracks. I heard you sigh and thought you had given up, but I was proved wrong when I felt your lips against mine. As I began to melt into the kiss, you held onto my wrists and pulled them to reveal my beet-red face. I heard you chuckle lightly before pecking me on the lips then leaving for the shower.

Yes, those were the days in Paris. Hmm, maybe people were right about Paris being the city of love.

Weeks turned to months and soon we received good news from a certain white owl. According to Ministry and the new Minister, we no longer exist and were free to do whatever we wished as long as it didn't bring us back into the spotlight as before. You grabbed me in your arms and swung around. We were finally free to return to the Wizard world and although we had to lie low, it was okay. We didn't want that much attention anyways.

Along with the letter of good news, there were some old papers from the _Daily Prophet _stating us as the only 'criminals' to have ever escape from the Ministry successfully. Some said that we were probably already dead and that that was why the Aurors couldn't find us. Some even said that we were legends. I laugh as I read all the old excerpts.

Of course, we returned to the Wizard world without anyone knowing, besides our old and most trusted friends who had good news of their own. Ron and Hermione were finally married and actually expecting their first child. Harry and Ginny were together and were also expecting their first baby. I remember the first time in many months meeting them again. It took a while for Ron to recognize both of us, but Harry and Hermione knew. I don't know what part of us is so different, maybe the height and build?

When we returned to the Manor, your parents welcomed you back with open arms. As you and your parents were catching up and hugging you, I felt something weird beneath my boot and when I checked I saw a dead blue beetle underneath. "Yuck." I thought and kicked it out the door to the garden where a bird snatched it up and carried it away to a nest of little chicks. I blinked a couple minutes thinking of what a beetle was doing underneath my boot but in the end just shrugged it off and continued watching you and your parents.

Days later, the _Daily Prophet _declared Rita Skeeter missing.

Our wedding was small and private, with only our family and friends. Your Mother made sure everything was perfect and I must say that she did quite a good job. Everything was pure white with small hints of spring colors. At first, your Father wanted it to be green and silver as was the Malfoy family's traditional colors, but your Mother said there needed to be a change now that this was a new beginning for all of us. And so it was white with buttercup yellow, light pastel pink, and pale emerald green. The wedding took place in the Malfoy garden, which was spacious and could hold even a grand ball. She even went as far to put flower in my hair much to my chagrin, but Hermione insisted that it looked good.

I remember that day as being one of the most happiest moments of my life, second that special day in Paris. Everyone was happy and celebrating along with us in unison. Sure, you and Ron had little spats, but they weren't heavy as when you were in school and were actually friendly. There was music and traditional dances which I loved. Mother used to teach me how to dance all the traditional ways, as was a pureblood's teaching.

After our marriage, your Father gave you the title as Lord Malfoy and retired to a smaller mansion with your Mother at a remote, yet beautiful beach. For days, we spent together in utter bliss. You would work from the morning till late afternoon as a Potions Master; I would stay at home and spend days in peaceful bliss. I didn't want to venture back out to the Wizard world for a job now, I had spent nearly my whole life fighting and now all I wanted was a place where I could relax with no need to worry for anything.

Sometimes your Mother would come by and give me some of the rarest objects she found in certain places. There was one time she gave me a small jar of ruby, berry-like fruits that she had gotten in a faraway Eastern country. Which one? I don't know, I can't remember. They tasted sweet and juicy with a slight sour tang. I loved it and continued asking for more, which your Mother happily obliged. She had finally found out something that I'd like. We had regular tea times together and would just sit and talk on and on until you came home. I was happy to be able to talk to your Mother this way, before, I was rather shy enough not to talk to her, but now I felt like I had found a new friend.

Every day when you came home, you'd start holding me close and kissing me. Sometimes those things went further than that and when you were too tired, they didn't go further than a few kisses. The times when we went further and were rolling around in our bed, I had to wonder if you had accidentally inhaled an aphrodisiac, since you were a lot rougher.

I tried sharing with you the red fruit your Mother gave me, but you always declined saying that the fruit smelled weird, much to my confusion. Because when I smell it, I smell nothing other than the usual sweet berry smell. Oh well, more for me anyways.

Months went by, when I started feeling rather odd. I started craving for certain things, odd things that is, like goat cheese and peaches. I hate peaches! Why'd I start liking them now? Soon I began to get a bit more moody than usual. Sometimes crying, sometimes laughing, and sometimes just blowing things apart and then repairing them with magic. This greatly upset our relationship and although you were trying hard to be patient, everything has a limit.

Finally, I decided to take a visit to St. Mungo's and ask what's wrong. Thank god, the one to examine me didn't know me as a runaway Death Eater. The results were mind-boggling. I was pregnant.

I tried fighting back, saying that I am male and that it isn't possible. But the Medi-Wizard kept saying that it's there. The baby, I mean. Finally, in exasperation, he asked me if I'd eaten anything as of late. I tried remembering and listed out, the goat cheese, the peaches, and the small red fruit. The Medi-Wizard raised an eyebrow when I said out the name of the red fruit: Myoko (**A/N: this is a completely made up fruit ^^)**. The Medi-Wizard then pointed out to me that that Myoko fruit was exactly what made me pregnant. Now it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

Apparently, this rare fruit is known to be like the Mandrake, which can help women give birth if done in the correct way. The difference between the Myoko and the Mandrake was the fact that the Mandrake had to be prepared correctly and the Myoko just needed to be eaten. That was when I remembered your Mother re-telling the story of how she had gotten the fruit in the first place.

She had been going to the exotic paradises of the Eastern countries where rare and unknown objects were told to be. She had read about the Myoko fruit bringing fortune, but she never knew it was supposed to bring _this_ kind of fortune. Apparently, the Myoko fruit only smells delicious to those who have 'seed' in them. When the Medi-Wizard said that, I could feel my face heating up.

"And," The Medi-Wizard added, staring at me through his square-shaped glasses. "This fruit is highly addictive. I would have to ask you to stop eating it. That is, unless you want more children with your husband."

I blushed a bright crimson red. I've never talked to anyone about having children before. I'd always thought that I'd never get the chance, seeing as how I might die either way as a Death Eater. Even when we were together, I never thought about having them either, since I knew _what _I am. But now that I think about it, perhaps this was a good thing, at least I'd be able to provide for you an heir.

Okay, so I had established the thought that I was pregnant, but now what? How the hell was I supposed to tell you?

When you came home, I tried giving you subtle hints, hoping that perhaps you'd figure out, but you didn't. Of course, neither of us thought that I could have children with you. Who would? Finally, I said it out like putting a plate on the table. Your eyes popped wide open, your jaw slightly hanging. "H-how?" you wanted to know, eyeing me as if I've gone nuts. I explained the whole situation and took out the jar of red fruits your Mother brought for me. It's true, I still liked those fruits. I mean, they tasted good, better than candy.

It took a while for you to process that you were becoming a father. But when the message sunk in, you grabbed me in a tight hug and swung me around so happy-go-lucky. You kept saying on how we need to get ready and that we needed to go shopping as soon as possible. I wanted to tell you that we still had about eight or so months left, but seeing you so happy made me stop and just smile along.

It didn't take long for the entire family to find out, along with our friends. Everyone kept trying to help out with the new baby, finding names and asking whether I wanted the room to be a different color than the bright green and silver that you had chosen. I always shake my head and say that it's alright and that I'd already changed the whole color scheme of the house from green and silver to red and white. "It's only fair that at least he gets to choose the baby room colors." I said, smiling.

But in the end, you changed everything. For several days, you had allowed Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, and Hermione into that baby room without telling me what they were doing. "It's a surprise." You winked at me then ushered me away. After a couple weeks, you finally showed what you were up to. The baby room had changed completely.

The baby room had sunny, warm yellow wall splashed with small pink flowers and thick, bright green lines. One wall, close to the crib, had hanging empty, yet fancy picture frames. "Those are for when we do get family pictures." You explained, quite smug about the idea. "So when he's asleep, it's not as if we're gone from the room completely. If anything happens, those pictures of us will let us know through our wedding picture in our room." I had to admit, it was a perfect idea that only you could've thought. Certainly, no child could live in a room with talking, dead ancestors, let alone a baby. An adult maybe, but not a baby. So I was very happy about the idea about the family pictures.

Lined up against one of the walls was a big, white closet, with slithering snakes carved at the corners. Inside were clothes all set from baby size to a size of an eleven-year-old. Lined at the bottom of the closet were shoes ranging from shiny black to comfortable brown boots. On top were hats for all sorts of season and weathers, cute beanies and fancy fur caps.

Beside the wall of frames—as I call it—was a small box filled with toys of all sorts, stuffed animals, wooden replicas of animals, colorful blocks, and so forth. I turned to look at you with a surprised expression. You dug your hands in your pockets and sort of kicked at the floor. "Those . . . um, were mine. My parents still kept them in the attic, so I cleaned them and put them here." You looked up and smiled sheepishly. You looked so cute~

Months of happiness and joy, pain and torture went by and soon, Caesar Osirus Malfoy was born into the world. The name Caesar really did suit him, he looked like a prince having most of your looks, except the eyes, which were like mine. In days to come, Caesar was taught the pureblood ways minus the scorn against muggle-born and half-bloods.

I remember when Caesar asked you why, you replied with a smirk, "Because someone thought that way before and now he's dead." I still remember Caesar's pale, blue eyes widening at the thought of dying just because you thought badly of someone's 'blood' and shuddered later on, thanking you for the explanation. Actually, that wasn't completely an explanation, but maybe it helped him a bit.

Now that I think about it, Caesar walked like you and talked like you. The only thing different between him and you was the eye color, height, and age. Other than that, you were both . . . quite alike. I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. I felt a bit sad that there wasn't much of me in Caesar, but that thought was blown away when a couple years later, Caesar displayed some talents in spell creation. "My god," you sighed happily, running your hand through your slicked back, blond hair. "I think we've just created ourselves a formidable fighter." I laughed, yes, perhaps you're right.

Now, as I lie here on the grass looking at the blue skies and white, fluffy clouds, I think that my ending was very happy. Our fingers were entwined, our happiness blended together with love. It had been many years already and we still love each other as when we were much younger. Our children had all grown up and created for themselves their own family, unafraid of what the world might throw at them.

I turn over and hug you, burying myself in the crook of your neck, murmuring the magic words, "I love you."

I feel your hand patting my head as you hold me closer and whispered, "I love you too."

**~END~**


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